A reflection on summer

Those who spend most days with me know that summer is my favorite season. I love being free of schedule. I love the smell of the air. I love how the warm sun feels on my skin. I love the food. Oh, I love the food.

This summer hasn't been like other summers, and for a time, I secretly thought summer was a bust. My garden certainly was. (I had a total of two tomatoes.) We didn't take a vacation, and we only made it to the beach once.

But in these unofficial last days of summer, I've been looking over my photos of the past few months. And turns out that I have just been dwelling on misery, which never does anyone any good. We actually had a lot of special moments together. When you chose to dwell on the lovelier things, you can fondly recall...

The fancy (and delicious) dessert your son made.

You can remember his birthday and the concert you took him to as part of his gift. 

You can be proud of how hard your baby worked in soccer and swimming lessons, 

but mostly you can smile, remembering how much fun she had. 

You can remember how you clapped along to the music that your daughter 

danced to during the best parade around. 

You can be thankful that a kid from France got you to go camping with your family, 

because you actually had a lot of fun. 

You'll be thankful, too, for the milestones in life. For anniversaries and last days...

And while you're feeling thankful, you will remember why your community is the best place 

to spend your summer — the library, the activities for kids, the neighborhoods, 

and your own backyard.

Just who is this family, anyway?

We will be welcoming a student from France this summer. During the application process, we were asked questions about our family's interests and how we would describe ourselves. I marked things like academic (versus athletic) and artistic (versus outdoorsy). Let's be honest: probably not the ideal environment in the eyes of most thirteen-year-old boys.

However, I have to believe that any child who is willing to venture to another country to live with strangers for three weeks has to have an open and adventurous spirit. He will be treated to any food he wants to try. He'll be given the freedom to ride a bike around town and swim every day if he wishes. We're heading to a state park for an overnight camping trip, and I'm mentally planning lots of short trips to area ice cream shops and parks.

I know that our plans aren't all that glamorous, but they are filled with the types of moments that I love to give my family. I like to think that this family is the type who loves the little things. The type whose youngest child will call me into a room, just to point out the sunset. And hopefully, one that will be thought of as being warm and kind by a stranger from France.

Sometimes, life makes it hard to be this type of family. There is always something to do, and my own selfishness gets in the way, I suppose. So I'm grateful that this student's visit will be an inspiration and reason to enjoy all the lovely things we have right here in our own back yard.

The one word I would use to describe this family (most days anyway): Happy.

Boy, was my mom lucky...

Tomorrow marks the last day of school, which means summer break for our two school-age kids. As I've spent hours with the activity calendar, said good-bye to many dollars in registration fees, and ordered workbooks all to fill their days with enrichment, I can't help but think, "Boy, was my mom lucky!"

I'm pretty sure that my mom was not concerned me being lazy or getting into trouble over the summer. She was at home with me, ready to prevent these things from happening. And forget about worrying  about the summer slide — a term that educators and guilty parents have come up with in recent years to describe academic slips. Thirty years ago the sole concern we had with summer slides was that the metal would burn our legs when we went down them.

My mom was lucky because she only worried about if I was getting too much sun during my daily trips to the pool. She didn't worry about my brain much, and since I checked out a new book every day — on my way home from the pool, of course — I think I had it covered. No matter how old I get, the idea of summer brings visions of me on my bike — riding to the pool, riding to the library, just riding with friends. I got lots of exercise and most importantly, I got a fair amount of freedom. I wasn't just free from school work, I was free from a schedule that was not of my own choosing.

Turns out my mom wasn't as lucky as much as I was lucky.

Sometimes, I wish I could allow my children to have those same types of summers. They do get to go the pool and library plenty. But I will expect some of those workbook sheets to be completed, and they will have a lot more chores than I ever did. (Turns out I'm still lucky in summer since I get major housework help.)

Despite my demands, I hope I can still pass on my sense of summer joy to my children. That joy makes these precious weeks the loveliest of the year. It's what makes an afternoon in the hammock the cheapest therapy around. It's the reason I find myself with a slight smile on my face as I grill or garden. And it's what I miss the most come January.

Here's to heat and freedom and luck...here's to summer joy.

A LOVELY MOMENT FROM MY DAY: My husband and I enjoyed a walk with the dog together tonight, and he shared some memories about his Grandpa Gassman, a man I wish I could have known when he was in good health. 

The super selfish reason I volunteer

You might say that I'm a bit of a joiner. If I'm asked to help out with something, I'll probably say yes, especially now that my children are a little less dependent on me. (I realize that putting that out there may make me a target.)

When you grow up in a small town, I think you are more likely to volunteer. Small towners don't consider it volunteering; it is simply part of your role in a small town. Everyone chips in and has fun doing it.

I volunteer because I feel socially responsible. I volunteer because I believe in the work of the organizations. I volunteer because I want to teach my children that we should help if we are able.

But there is an incredibly selfish reason I volunteer, too. I do it because it's fun. Like really fun.

I can suggest things like, "We should have a 'Let It Go' sing-along," and it happens.

And I get to hang out with people who make things like this.

And who are willing to get together to blow up over a hundred balloons. so that we can do this...

And eventually our fun becomes other people's fun. And best of all, our fun — and I suppose the work and effort, too — makes a difference in the end.

Our Pizza Problem: Solutions 1 & 2

I wish I were a photographer, but alas, I am not.
I hope that all my readers have great imaginations to compensate. 

Shortly after the new year, my husband made a very true and honest confession. He finally admitted that he had a problem: he was addicted to pizza.

I, too, suffer from this addiction, and the five-year-old is on her own path to being a pizza junkie. There are worse vices, I know, but we had recently established some new year’s resolutions. 1) Save more money. 2) Get healthy. Our addiction directly worked against both.

I realize the solution to both resolutions would simply be to cut pizza out of our diet. But come on! Why should the five-year-old suffer like that? So we’ve started a new tradition: instead of our weekly Papa Murphey’s on Sunday, we are making homemade pies!

We are two weeks in, and while I miss the ease of take and bake, I haven't felt like our pizzas are lacking in flavor. Here's what we've been doing:

For our crust, I like this recipe on bon appetit's web site. Pros and cons of this recipe:

PROS
• This recipe makes enough dough for six pizzas! That means that one batch makes enough for two weekends for us. We just freeze the three extra balls and thaw them when we need them. How's that for ease?
• Speaking of easy, you basically mix this up and leave it set for 18 hours. I actually left it for more like 20-21 and it was fine.
• Most importantly, the flavor is great and it is easy to handle.

CONS
• You do need to plan ahead a bit, but if you are a meal planner by nature, you might appreciate being able to get it ready ahead of time.

On our new pizza nights, we make three pizzas for the five of us. One pizza is always going to be a basic cheese, pepperoni, or salami. This is the fall-back pizza for our pickier eaters. The other two pizzas are a bit more adventurous. This week we ate shimp pizza with cilantro pesto and Indian-spiced chicken pizza. Here are the recipes. I'm not going to bother with measurements; don't we just sprinkle pizzas by sight?

Deschutes Chainbreaker made for a nice pair with the shrimp pizza. 

Shrimp Pizza with Cilanto Pesto
1 10-12 inch pizza crust
Cilantro pesto (I used the recipe here...you will have to scroll down a bit to find it.)
Around 8 onces cooked shrimp
Chopped green onions
Shredded Parmesan cheese

Bake as your crust directs. For us that is about 10 minutes at 500 degrees.

REVIEW: This one was tasty, and it would serve as a good appetizer. Next time, I might try it with a chimichurri sauce rather than cilantro pesto. Yum!

I'm fairly certain I used more cheese than it called for. Oh, well.

Indian-Spiced Chicken Pizza
1 10-12 inch pizza crust
Cilantro pesto (The above recipe makes enough for two pies.)
1 Indian-spiced chicken breast (See how I did it below.)
Chopped green onions
Sweet chili sauce
Shredded cheddar cheese

Bake as your crust directs.

My chicken: Sprinkle one breast with tumeric, garlic powder, coriander, and cumin. (Use your own blend, if you prefer.) Throw it in a fry pan and cook through. Slice into bite size pieces. Easy-peasy.

REVIEW: This one will definitely be made again. The chili sauce was a great contrast to the spices on the chicken and the pesto. Restaurant quality, for sure!

This is the sweet chili sauce I used...I had just enough!

A LOVELY MOMENT FROM MY DAY: I got a just-because card in the mail. Just when you are certain their is no warmth  in the season, it comes to you in your mailbox. 

She's just more...

My oldest daughter turned ten this month. I did not get a birthday post written in a timely manner. I suppose this is metaphor for the ways I have been a less-than mother to her over the years. When she was a newborn, I'm fairly certain I didn't feed her often enough. I was used to nursing a baby the way I could nurse her brother, who was a full pound heavier, so an extra hour went by here and there.

When she was a little older, I was mildly depressed due to a number of things that had nothing to do with her. And a depressed momma is a less-than momma.

When she went to kindergarten, it was May before it really hit me that "Holy crap! She's a kindergartner and that is a really big deal!" She was our second child and it was old news for us, but not for her. And as a less-than mom, I failed to recognize it.

I always feel a bit bad that I don't worry as much about her as I have her brother. Perhaps that is the blessing of experience. But I'm inclined to think it may be because, while I'm a bit of a less-than mom, she's a "more" daughter.

When I think of myself at her age, there are so many similarities between the two of us. She just happens to be the "more" version. She's a bit more dramatic. I think she's a bit messier (though I'm not sure that's entirely accurate.)

She's certainly more talented — in music, dance, acting. I can see natural talent and charisma that I never had myself.

She's more curious than I ever was. More creative. Funnier. Better at making friends. Braver.

But the most important way she is more...the more I am most thankful for is how much more she loves herself than I loved myself at at ten. She's confident. When she's joyful, she's radiant. I don't see her wishing she was more like someone else. She just wants to be a bit more of who she already is, and I can't blame her for that.

As her tweens turn to teens, my prayer for her — for all girls, really — is that she can see that her more is more than enough. I want her to remember that the girl I see light up when she makes her family laugh or when she gets to dance in front of a crowd...that girl is amazing! I want her to hold onto that girl and stay familiar with her, because life has a way of making you forget yourself during those years.

That girl is her true self, and I see a little more of her every time I watch my daughter with her friends or have the pleasure of time alone with her. That girl makes me want to be more. And with her in my corner, I'm sure I can be.

A new year

A new year makes me take stock of things.

A new year makes me think about my life's blessings.

A new year makes me think about the last year. 

The babies that were born, the unions that were made.

A new year makes me feel like I can go anywhere, 

because it makes me think about how far I've come.

A new year allows me to believe that I will find more beauty and be more beautiful. 

That I can be a better parent and partner. 

A new year shows me that I have all the means I need to change, should I desire.

A new year shows me that my life is lovely and 

even if nothing were to ever change again, my heart would still be full. 

A LOVELY MOMENT FROM MY DAY: Frittata & mimosas for breakfast, walk with my husband, a bath, and family movie time...all of my day's moments have been lovely.